Teach Me To Stay
by devotedtoanideal
Summary: Subversion of the Hades/Persephone mythos into a Klaroline oneshot.


_Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven- John Milton, Paradise Lost_

...

The pale moon's rays flicker through the canopy of ancient trees, scattering shadows across the leaves and broken branches. The fragmented cobblestones leading to the archaic, underground mausoleum are unassuming and almost just as forgotten as the girl trudging over them.

Golden curls flash across her pained face as the wind rips and whirls between the trees, disrupting everything in its wake. As she steps into the light, he swears her skin begins to glow. Leaves begin to swirl in the gales and scatter around her in all directions. If only for a moment, he believes she was a part of the forest itself; an angelic statue frozen for eternity to be nature personified, tarnished only by the change of seasons.

Even from a distance, he recognizes the shear look of crushing desolation and abandonment. He longs to hold her and whisper, you are not alone.

He doesn't.

He watches her, and says nothing. She's not yet ready for him.

...

She's used to his presence: he's there at every turn, reminding her of how she owes him her life. Even Damon notices. And Damon never noticed. Nobody ever notices.

She reminisces about that night, remembering how if felt to have his arms wound possessively around her waist as she sunk her sharp teeth into his yielding arm. She can still feel his warm blood seeping down her outstretched neck and pooling on her heaving chest.

She shivers as she recalls how the burn of the werewolf bite was quickly replaced by a whole other kind of burn: one that wasn't entirely bad.

He had set her life back on track, giving her a reason to live: a reason to keep on living. But now that reason seems to be even farther out of reach than before.

...

Eventually Tyler leaves.

They always leave.

...

One night he gets tired of waiting, but she's not there. He fingers the portrait on her bedside table, surprised that she kept it. A glint of hope flashed from a place long wasting away from disuse. Whatever was left of his decaying heart seemed to skip a beat as he gently ran his fingers across the planes of her face. If only he could actually touch her like that. Soon, he muttered breathily as a promise rather than a flighty desire.

...

Stefan can see the fires of desire burning behind the Wolf's eyes as he stares at her. He knows what the Hybrid wants, but will stop at nothing to keep her safe. Stefan makes sure the predator doesn't cross that line; he doesn't let him touch her.

His fingers itch to touch her ivory skin just for a second. Fire burns through his body in a dangerous mixture of jealousy and rage.

"Stay away from her," Stefan growls, pushing her back into the protected threshold of Elena's home.

"She's mine," he says with such conviction that she shivers, but not quite out of fear.

He looks from her to Stefan and then back. His eyes linger on hers for what seems like an eternity. "And I don't share," he says without breaking eye contact.

He smiles knowing he's getting closer to his goal and strides away as the master of death. He leaves tracks of decay in his wake. The night seems that much darker with him in it.

...

A wolf howls in the forest in Mystic Falls. The predator strikes and it's prey falls to the ground, panting out it's last exhausted breath.

Everyone has their breaking point.

...

Like a caged rabbit, she yearns to be free of Stefan's oppressive protection. She scrutinizes the pitiful caretaker for discouraging anything remotely resembling self realization. He frustrates her to no end. She's suffocating.

As the days pass excruciatingly slow, she craves to feel her beloved forest floor between her toes. She longs to relish in the freedom that only nature can give her. She refuses to let anyone take that away.

She no longer stays idle. She looks out the window longingly, eyes flickering with excitement, rolls up her sleeves and strides out of the house unopposed. Nobody dares stop her; nobody can stop her.

...

In the forest, she shines. She belongs.

She's spring-time personified, a goddess among vampires. He sees her beauty and waits for her to come to him. And she does.

...

It's a game to them. Predator and prey; death and life; man and woman. Where he leaves destruction in his wake, her radiance brings it back to life. The earth turns black under his tread, but is revived as she follows. She pursues him for once. He's not in control.

His obsidian eyes replicate the black shade of the night around them as he maps her every movement. She can see the fire rising from his body, tempting her to approach like a flesh eating bird to its quarry. It's almost second nature.

...

When she's with him, she's a huntress. She watches him with hardened eyes as he circles her. The distance between them begins to dwindle and soon all she can hear are his ragged breaths. She never backs away; she doesn't want to.

When she's with him, she's strong; she's unafraid; she's a queen.

He walks up to her with fire in his eyes and sparks dancing on his fingertips. He runs his hand down her golden spine: she bends under his advances, but never breaks. She never shatters, only adapts and survives.

He craves her red, red mouth. His hands run greedily over her body, trying to get his fix; but he's insatiable. He's addicted. He runs his hands through her sunbeam hair, admiring the life that her body radiates.

Nothing could have prepared him for how he felt when she's with him. She's a summer storm leaving destruction in her wake, and so he ravishes her like a hurricane; after all, revenge is an act of passion.

He learns to love the chaos; he drinks it up and leaves nothing else. He craves her everything, so he hunts for her heart.

...

"You'll have to chose," he whispers against her jugular as they lay amongst nettles and belladonna. She know's he's right but she won't admit it. He had somehow wormed him way under her skin and tore it up as he went. There was no turning back; he had his hand wound in her heartstrings and he wasn't letting go. She wasn't ready for him to let go.

"Then teach me to stay."

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys thanks for reading, whether you read this on tumblr first or just saw it on . If you follow me on tumblr you know I'm OBSESSED with Hades/Persephone and can't get enough of it. Obviously Klaus was meant to portray Hades and Caroline was Persephone. I omitted their names on purpose just to make it more ambiguous for the parallel. So I hope it wasn't that confusing/ redundant! Also I had Stefen play the Demeter role instead of Liz, just for kicks. Anywho, this story was a random product of my boredom and I'll probably be writing more one shots in the near future. I'de love to hear any and all feedback that you guys might have! Thanks so much!**


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